


Take on the World

by stardustsroses



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Kanej - Freeform, kaz without gloves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustsroses/pseuds/stardustsroses
Summary: post-Crooked Kingdom. // Kaz Brekker is the King of the Barrel, with nothing and no one standing in his way. He has it all. But he soon realizes that “all” is not quite enough when he thinks he might loose Inej forever.





	Take on the World

Kaz

She was leaving today.

Inej hadn’t explicitly told him so. But Kaz knew – he felt it in his bones, in his veins, in his very heartbeat. He’d known there would be a day when he would have to fight through the tangled knots she’d skilfully, yet unconsciously, formed around his heart and let go of his selfishness, of his desire, so as to finally untie her from his life once and for all.

He just didn’t think it’d have to happen that fast. That soon.

There was still that part of him – that foolish, miserable, pathetic, hopeful part that longed to consider the possibility of Inej staying permanently in Ketterdam. With him.

He had thought that she would, briefly.

He had let himself hope, stupidly.

After a month or so in Ketterdam, Inej’s parents would be leaving for Ravka, having decided to finally settle down after many years on the road. They had enough money to live a comfortable life, and now they could rest knowing that they had their daughter back – the daughter they’d thought was lost.

That day in the Harbour, Kaz’s hands had trembled. His heart had clenched into a fist in his chest. He had stayed back, watching, his heart tight and his eyes bright, as Inej held her parents to her so desperately, so happily, like she’d found her very own miracle and wouldn’t let go for the fear of it slipping away from her fingers. Her eyes had filled with tears and she had smiled – that very smile he knew all too well – and Kaz had felt like he had found his own miracle, too.

Inej had let them go, only briefly, and had reached out a hand for him – for Kaz, whose throat had closed up; whose heart had felt ready to explode; whose mind had wondered about the most ridiculous things: Was his tie straight enough? Was his smile pleasant enough? Were his words enough? Was he enough? Kaz whose bare hands had touched two strange people without recoiling; whose thoughts had instantly gone back to the cold water. And yet, he’d felt intact and not close to breaking. He’d felt calm, not close to panicking. He knew now that his unusual tranquillity had come from watching her – her joy that seemed limitless, the sparkle in her eyes, her laugh. All of it had filled him with such a feeling – one he couldn’t quite put into words – and it had eased him, somehow.

His nervousness had faded. Inej’s mother had looked at him with a pleasantness you don’t see around the Barrel and her father’s gaze held nothing but genuine gratefulness as he thanked Kaz, over and over, for protecting his beloved daughter. Kaz had no words for that. But he had smiled, nonetheless. He had smiled, and he had meant it. His gloves were forgotten, the cold water didn’t exist, because Inej was standing next to him keeping close, so close, smiling up at him, her voice delighted, so carefree, her face so bright, so lovely.

That month had been the happiest he’d ever been. His nights were spent in her company, sitting on the rooftop of the Slat like they used to, both of them comforted by the silence of the stars, by the darkness of the night, by the closeness of their bodies. They had rarely touched, but Kaz had pushed himself: every time she was around his gloves were disregarded, just to see what he might do, what she might do; they would drift closer to each other, until their shoulders and their legs would be touching, and he’d force himself to focus on the softness of her voice, on the smell of her hair as it shifted with the breeze; another time, they sat with their fingers entwined for hours, and he’d made a point to memorize the feeling of her warm skin, her pulse beneath his own and he’d repeat to himself alive alive alive as he pushed aside the nausea, pushed aside anything and everything that wasn’t her.

He’d held her hand as he told her about Jordie. About Rollins. All his cards were on the table, exposed, bare, for her to see. She’d held his hand as she told him about her journey on the slave ship to Kerch. And then all her cards were on the table – for him to see. And so, they held each other a bit tighter.

It had been bearable. It had felt more than bearable, it had felt…good.

That night, she had leaned on him and he had leaned on her – both mentally and physically. She had looked up at him, afterwards - and the smile she’d given him lit up the dark like no other star could.

In moments like that, he thought she might love him.

Now, it didn’t matter.

Her parents would be boarding the boat at that moment.

Kaz stared out the window of his office, stared at the setting sun colouring the sky in different shades of orange and thought that someone else might’ve appreciated the beauty of that sight. But not him – not when he’d seen far greater beauty.

Inej hadn’t left a note and maybe that was for the best – he convinced himself that it was for the best. At least part of him knew it was better this way, but the other part of him wanted nothing more than to run to her and get on his knees, hold her to him and tell her, tell her how much he wanted her, how badly he needed her, how he could not lead this forsaken city without her.

But he wouldn’t let himself be selfish – not with her, never with her. Inej was free now – free of silks, free of weapons, free of…of him. She would have a chance at a life – a good life. He could offer her nothing.

Kaz Brekker, King of the Barrel, turned his back to the window. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and allowed himself one more thought of her with the promise that it would be the last.

**

Inej

Inej was glad that Fifth Harbour was packed with people. Despite the peaceful silence in the Barrel during that month, she was still aware of every pair of eyes that landed on her – she was suspicious of most, untrusting of many. Enemies were still looming. They were silent, but ever-present, and she couldn’t afford to become distracted, not now with her parents in the city. So, a busy place was a safe place.

Her heart clenched as she helped her mother with the luggage, as she felt her father’s arm tug her closer to them, leading them to the boat that would take them back to Ravka, away from her – where it would be safe. As much as she wanted them with her, she knew that Ketterdam wasn’t safe still. Not yet. Inej knew it was the right choice to send them away for now. But that didn’t mean it would hurt any less.

“Please write to me when you arrive,” she said, straightening her spine, smiling at both of them.

“We will write to you every day, my sweet girl,” said her mother. She was clinging to her daughter’s hand, her eyes bright with tears and her face alight with both joy and sadness.

Her father held Inej’s gaze, his eyes tender. “You will not join us then. It is decided?”

Inej forced herself to nod. As much as it killed her, she knew she couldn’t leave Ketterdam now – not when there was so much left to be done, not when there were still people like Tante Haleen walking around. “I am needed here, Papa,” she said. “I will not be gone long. I will visit you in two weeks, and every time I can. When it’s safe.”

Her mother was clinging to a tissue, dabbing her cheeks. “You stay safe, my dear. Please,” she begged.

“I will, Mama.”

“And the boy…Kaz,” continued her father. “Make sure you bring him home one day.”

Inej smiled. “Kaz is a busy man, Papa.”

“Not too busy for you, from what I’ve noticed,” her mother interjected. A knowing smile graced her pretty features.

Inej ignored that tug inside her chest.

“And don’t forget to thank those two nice boys, Wylan and Jesper, for their generous hospitality. We hope to see more of them.”

It really had been a sight to behold – Wylan at the piano, Jesper and her father singing the most ridiculous of songs at the top of their lungs in Wylan’s music room while Inej and her mother had looked on. “I’m sure you will, Papa.”

The passengers were starting to occupy their seats, some of them waving goodbye, some barely looking over their shoulder, and some with tears in their eyes.

“Inej,” her father said. He was holding back tears. “We are so proud of you, my dear. We are so proud of the strong woman you have become.”

Her own tears spilled.

It had been worth it, she realized – it had been all worth it: all she had done to survive, all the struggling, all the pain. It had been all worth it for those words and that moment alone.

They didn’t dare to say a single word of goodbye. They hugged, they laughed, they smiled. Then her parents turned back, walked up the boat, and looked over their shoulder once. Inej’s heart felt like it could burst as she watched them, those familiar faces that had been her only comfort for years.

Despite her sadness at seeing them go, her face was brighter than the setting sun in front of her. They would see each other soon, because now she had enough money to make all the trips she desired, not to mention her own boat – the Wraith.

Kaz.

Her thoughts faded into images of dark hair and white sleeves and disregarded black gloves.

It was useless to say that a very small part of her had wanted to stay because of him, also. During that month, they had broken down the remaining walls between them and even though there were still many more…Inej believed that they’d be able to punch them down eventually. Eventually. She believed, because now it was hope that grew in her heart – hope for them both.

The world was hers, now. And she would take it with both hands. She could see her future on that warm horizon, as clear as the day that still had to be born. After they’d done the impossible, after they’d pushed through every obstacle, after finding her parents in a world determined to keep them apart…anything was possible.

So they could be possible too.

Inej left Fifth Harbour. As the distance between her and her parents increased and as the night fell onto her cloaked shoulders, Inej could feel the weight of her blades underneath her clothes. They had felt weightless, almost non-existent, when her parents were around her. But now, they were heavy, reminding her that she had to keep an eye out – always.

The Wraith climbed the drain pipes to the top floor of the Slat. It was a warm, starlit night, and without the humidity, her grip was steady and her steps were secure and quick and silent. She could’ve just walked through the front door of the Dregs’ base, but every time she came to see him, she climbed. It had become a habit, more than anything else. But she also had to admit that part of her had missed it – the climbing, the roofs, being higher than anyone else, feeling like she could crawl up the highest of buildings and feel the world underneath her boots, the city hers, only hers, and the night sky only at an arm’s length. It was calming. It was familiar.

Kaz switched between Per Haskell’s former office downstairs and his own on the top floor. By the faint, flickering candle light emanating through the tainted window, Inej knew he was in his room. She picked the lock easily, stepped into the room silently, then stopped on her tiptoes.

At the end of the room, deposited sloppily on his desk chair, there was a sleeping Kaz.

Inej blinked, still on her tip toes. I should go, she thought to herself. But her feet had a mind of her own and they carried her slowly, silently, to his sleeping figure. She didn’t even know what she intended to do or see, but then she was next to him, staring down at his serene, tired face and found herself unable to form any coherent thoughts.

Kaz’s lips were parted, almost as pale as the rest of him. His gloved hands were drooped in an awkward angle on his sides, his long legs splayed out in front of him. Inej was fascinated. She wanted to reach out and move those annoying strands blocking his eyes. She wanted to touch his cheek and move his head into a more comfortable position. She wanted to touch that bottom lip, trace it slowly with her thumb, just to see as if it was still as soft as she remembered.

She did nothing.

But Kaz – always tense, always harsh, looking so different, so vulnerable, so young like this. He looked like a boy, not the man the Barrel had known and feared. He looked like…the boy she had seen, only in rare moments - precious moments - ones that she kept locked inside her mind and inside her heart.

She was overstepping her boundaries, observing something she wasn’t supposed to. Inej struggled to draw breath as she softly turned, intending to round the desk and move to the window to leave, like she should’ve done minutes ago instead of invading his privacy. But then – the littlest of noises, the briefest shuffling sound, and she turned abruptly.

To see Kaz awake, standing.

And pointing a gun at her face.

Inej did not flinch.

Almost as quick as he drew it, Kaz dropped the gun to the floor as if it had burned him through the leather coating his skin. His breathing was haggard, his eyes wide and unfocused, his bottom lip shaking, his hand shaking, his whole body shaking. He looked as if he was staring into the eyes of a ghost.

“Inej,” he breathed.

She didn’t know what to do, what to say. His broken whisper and the desperation clear in every feature startled her, confused her. Kaz didn’t loose his composure. Kaz didn’t loose control like this – not even in his sleep.

“I’m sorry,” she started to apologize. “I thought-I didn’t think-”

“I could’ve killed you,” he almost choked out the words. His hair was a mess, his eyes a darker shade than black. “What are you doing here?”

His question made her stop. What was she doing here, exactly?

Truth be told, she had developed more than a few habits in the last month. Maybe coming to him became one she couldn’t seem to break and one she didn’t seem to be too conscious off. Her body had carried her through the Barrel and into his room, even though she kept her room at Wylan’s. Her mind was so used to it that it had refrained from stopping her, from thinking twice about it.

“I thought we could talk.” That line – the one they had both been using lately – passed for Let’s go to the roof and stare silently at the city or just sit next to each other and stare at nothing I just want to be close to you please.

Kaz shook his head, breathing deeply through his nose. “No. I mean what are you doing here. I thought your parents had left today.”

“They did.”

His eyes widened, just barely. But enough for her to notice. He spoke slowly. “You didn’t go. You didn’t go with them.”

Not a question – but a startled realization.

Inej furrowed her eyebrows. “You thought I would?” He just stared at her. “I thought we had a deal.”

Kaz shifted onto his good leg, steadying himself with one hand on his desk. Inej watched on as his expression became stone cold. Just so she couldn’t read him. He was slipping away, hiding in his fortress.

“You should’ve gone with them,” he said, like the words tasted bitter in his mouth.

Inej frowned. “I have work to do here.”

Then he was moving toward her. Inej followed his movements, with that stillness that amazed him, and then found herself fighting to keep her eyes from fluttering when his breath made contact with her cheek. “You should’ve gone with them,” he repeated. He towered over her, so she had to look up, into those pools of black. The candle light flickered in his eyes, bringing out the lighter tones of brown on his irises. He was looking at her with such intensity that made her knees buckle. Then Kaz’s features softened as he took her in, yet there was still conflict in him as he admitted: “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Inej stood straight as knife, afraid her knees would give in and she would collapse into his chest. So close – they were so close. She’d just have to take a small step forward and she’d be pressed up against him. Instead she regained her thoughts, swallowed, and said: “You and me, Kaz, we have work to do. I’m still counting on you.”

They stared at each other.

When he spoke, Kaz’s voice was rough and velvety at the same time. “I know you went to Pekka Rollins.”

She didn’t bother denying it. “I had my own message to deliver.”

That’s what she’d said to the bastard himself, that night.

Kaz’s dark eyes were full of unsolved riddles. “Word is that he ran out of Kerch with his tail in between his legs and his kid under one arm. He seemed to have disappeared completely off the map.”

Inej felt the perverse need to smile, even though she felt sorry for the poor kid who was completely oblivious of his father’s wrongdoings. She had surprised herself that night – she hadn’t meant to cause that much of a stir. But she had felt angry, livid with rage as she looked down at Rollins’ unworried, sleeping face. She didn’t feel that amount of anger often: she’d felt it when Matthias had died, when she had to say goodbye to Nina, when Dunyasha had threatened her life, but Rollins…Rollins made her want to carve out his eyes. Her hands had trembled with bloodlust when she’d pinned him down on his own bed, her mind filled with images of a poor, hopeless little boy clinging to his dead older brother, calling for him, for someone, anyone to help him. For a split second that night, she thought she would make the killing blow. She thought she wouldn’t be powerful enough to move off him.

But then she thought of the sleeping boy in the next room holding a toy crow to his chest and her senses came back to her. She had no right to take his father’s life. Despite everything that Rollins had done to Kaz, she could never forgive herself for that sin. So she’d kept her knife wounds close to the surface, kept her words soft and true – death was not a punishment for men like Rollins, oh no. Death would be too easy, death would be forgiveness, peace. And Rollins deserved neither.

She hoped he would go to sleep every night with the image of Sankt Petyr pressed against his chest, replaying her words over and over in his head, tormenting, mocking, threatening him.

She would be his punishment. She would be his undoing. Brick by brick, she and Kaz would drive him mad.

“I liked the toy crow detail,” continued Kaz, a flicker of a smile on his lips. “Clever Wraith.”

She smiled. “You taught me well.”

He shook his head. “No, Inej.” Then he was grinning. “That was all you.”

“Brick by brick,” she murmured.

“Brick by brick,” he said back.

There wasn’t enough space in that attic. There wasn’t enough space in the world. The need to be close to him was extraordinary. Every time he shifted closer, she wanted to do the same – and the thing is, she had wanted nothing more than to stay away from people for longer than she could remember. She had flinched at the briefest of hugs, at the slightest of touches. But now she realized she craved that intimacy again. She had been stripped out of that comforting feeling for so long, had fought against it for so, so long, that it took someone as broken as her to show her that all she needed was a helping hand, a safe touch, a safe haven.

Kaz’s eyes didn’t leave hers as he slowly peeled off his gloves. He was holding his breath, she was holding hers. His voice was low as he asked: “How are things at Wylan’s?”

They didn’t move away from each other. “Good. Jesper still misses you, though.”

He didn’t respond, but Inej caught the slight change in his eyes, the slight movement of his mouth. She had learned to read him like this, with the little signs he gave her. She learned that she could see everything if he just allowed her to peek through tiny cracks in his mask.

Kaz hadn’t asked her why she stayed with them and not returned to her room in the Slat – she didn’t expect him to. Kaz would never demand anything of her, and neither would she when it came to him. When he had told her about Jordie – it had been out of nowhere, in between their silence. Like it had just burst out of his chest and out of his mouth, like he desperately needed to tell her, tell someone, and share that burden. That’s what had motivated her to open up – not just the need to get it off her chest, but…because it was Kaz. And he understood. And he wouldn’t question her.

His gloves fell on the desk.

“Sorry I disturbed your sleep,” she mumbled, mainly to distract her mind. “Thought you’d be awake.”

He hadn’t slept for days, he wanted to tell her. His head had been filled with her her her and nothing but her. The thought of her leaving. The thought of her being happy somewhere else. The thought of never feeling her skin against his again. But instead, a corner of his lips raised slightly and he said: “I thought I told you a while ago to never sneak up on me again.”

“I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I was turning away to leave.”

“You were watching me sleep,” he said. “That’s creepy, Inej.”

“You would know about being creepy.”

They smiled like damn fools at each other. This, Inej thought to herself, this was so easy. It felt like they were once more laying down on top of a roof, spying over merchants and warehouses and yet, simultaneously different – completely different. He was still Kaz, still Dirtyhands – that part of him would never fade. But after all that they’ve been through, there was more to him now. Inej could see that there was finally hope in his heart. And she would be there to make sure it would never leave him again.

Kaz leaned back against the desk, hands at his sides. Her blades felt like they were weighing her down. It seemed that now they both had this silent procedure every time they were together – Kaz would remove his gloves, Inej would remove her knives. It felt like stripping away parts of themselves that kept them apart; it felt like breaking down walls they used to hide behind. Cards on the table, she thought. So, slowly, she removed Sankta Alina from her forearm, placing it silently on the desk next to him. She let out a breath. It felt like she was peeling a security blanket off her. Before Inej had a chance to continue, Kaz raised his hands gently, unshaking, and held her forearm. His eyes raised to hers like they always did – looking for any kind of sign that would make him stop his movements.

He found none.

So, with heart breaking tenderness, Kaz removed Sankt Petyr from her right arm – the first blade she’d manoeuvred, the blade Kaz had given her. He placed it right next to the other. No tremor from him, no sign of anguish. His eyes pointed to her belt – a silent question. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, transfixed with his movements. Then her eyes followed his fingers down to her belt, where he took out Sankta Lizabeta. She joined the others. Slowly, patiently, his fingers touched her waist, lingering there, unsure.

Inej didn’t know how she found her voice. “Three more.”

Go on. Finish the story.

And then Kaz was leaning down, down, down. He was on his knees in front of her. He hesitated, looked up. Another nod. Three more. She couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her body as his hands circled her thighs. Startled, Kaz looked up. But Inej only moved her eyes to the blades on her thighs, letting that movement tell him enough. Gently, he removed both Sankta Marya and Anastasia, gripped them with one hand, and used the other to remove the last – Sankt Vladimir – from her boot. 

She felt bare.

But not naked.

His touch was strange, yet welcoming. Foreign, yet familiar at the same time. She couldn’t put words to it.

Kaz rose, placing the knifes behind him carelessly. His gaze was focused now, intent, fierce. There was a different kind of determination in his eyes – not the kind you saw when he was ready for a fight, no. This was gentler, this was Kaz trying to steady himself, this was him trying to focus on his breathing, on her, so as not to drown.

“Did you really think I would leave?” Inej asked.

She wondered which one of them would break first – it was almost a game they played. Testing each other out with little touches here and there, listening to each other’s breaths and reactions, no matter how small.

Kaz furrowed his eyebrows. He moved his hand, and Inej prepared herself for his touch on her cheek, but then he moved it down, taking the tip of her braid between his two fingers. Slowly, tentatively, he pulled down the elastic band. “I was certain you’d feel happier far away from here, where it was safer.”

With one hand, Kaz slipped his fingers through her braid, slowly untangling it, freeing her hair. It fell in dark waves over her shoulder, the ends touching the middle of her back. She watched him take a breath, then run the tips of his fingers through the long, loose waves. She licked her lips and said: “There’s no place safer than where I am right now.”

She meant it.

He didn’t miss the movement of her tongue. He followed it with his eyes, like a predator seizing its prey.

“That’s not true,” he murmured.

What wasn’t true? She couldn’t remember.

“But you want me here,” she said, searching his eyes. Her hand touched his. He shivered, but didn’t pull away. “You want me here,” she repeated, in a whisper.

Slowly, he nodded. “Yes.” Sweat was beginning to form on his forehead. “Yes,” he repeated. “I want you here.” He drew a shuddering breath. “With me.”

Inej waited, looking into his eyes. She waited for him to pull her away, to close his eyes and look somewhere else, but his feet didn’t move and his eyes were glued to her and his breath was mingling with hers.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s frightening for me as well.”

“Inej,” he sighed. His eyes were two tortured black holes intent on devouring her, pulling her in. His voice was strained, yet gentle, yet tender and she thought she could never have enough of him. “I…I-”

“I know,” she said. “Kaz, pull away if you want to.”

She made to do it, but then his hand was on the small of her back, as light as a feather, gently pressing down. If he were to lean his forehead down, it’d touch hers. If he moved, just slightly, leaned in more, his lips would be on hers.

“No, stay,” he begged. “Stay with me, let me-Saints, let me-“

He was shaking. His eyes were closing.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured, like a song. “Kaz. Look at me, open your eyes.” He did. It broke her. She thought she’d seen pain, she thought she’d seen anguish – it was nothing compared to what she was seeing in those depths of dark brown. “Stay with me, okay?” He exhaled, nodded once. “Listen to my voice. I’m here. I’m here.”

Kaz

The water was rising. The water was rising. The water was rising.

He thought if he let her go, he’d just go with the tide and it would pull him under, under, under, until he could no longer see the surface.

It’s not real it’s not real it’s not real.

She’s alive. Inej. Inej. Alive alive alive.

“I’m here,” she whispered.

I’m here.

He opened his eyes, looked into her own, focused on her breathing. She was so warm. He wanted to envelop her in his arms; he wanted to peel himself away and fold himself in the corner. But he breathed in, out, in, out; he took in the scent of her hair – she always smelled so sweet; he forced his hand to move down to her neck – her pulse, so quick. He counted her heartbeats.

“Small steps,” said Inej. He peered down at her. “Think of what keeps you grounded here. Think…think of me. When the water starts rising keep holding on. Let me be your rope, Kaz. Let me pull you back to me.”

But he was an anchor that had sunk in the deepest of oceans.

No.

He knew how to stop it. He had made progress. He knew how to block it out. Count the heartbeats. One, two. Three, four. Five, six. Her voice. Her hair. Her touch. Alive.

“Good,” Inej encouraged. “Come back to me.”

The ground was steady. The world wasn’t spinning. He had her in his arms, safe, alive. He could do this. When he came back to himself, he was met with a pair of dark eyes, lighter than his own, wide and concerned and caring. And that smile, kind and genuine and patient.

And she was a rope as strong as steel that pulled him up to the surface.

Kaz brought his knuckles to her cheek. So soft. So warm. He wanted to taste her skin. He wanted-

Every inch of her was pressed against him – knees touching, chests touching, hands touching. He had pulled her closer, not pushed her away. In the middle of his thoughts, in the middle of drowning, he had clung to her. He had come back to her.

“Good?” she asked.

Kaz could only nod. He couldn’t explain how it felt having her this close. Spreading his fingers on her cheek and feel the softness of her skin pressed against his, feeling her lean in into his touch, her eyes closing, her lips parting. She ruined him. She saved him.

Desire coursed through him in waves as her head turned slightly to the side and her lips made contact with the palm of his hand. His heart was a drum beating in the same rhythm as hers. Now his hands were shaking again – but not with fear, not with anguish, not with nausea. They were shaking because he had to stop himself from taking her face and devouring her lips. And he held on to that feeling – the feeling of wanting her – because it was so much stronger than the fear, it was so much stronger than his nightmares. And he could stand it, he could keep floating – if he just held on.

So he did.

Inej’s eyes were still closed when he leaned down and touched his lips to her cheekbone. Kaz felt her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “Good?” he asked. His voice was dripping with want.

He waited, his face close, his nose pressing against her skin. He focused on her breathing pattern, testing to see if there was any part of her that wanted him to pull away, to stop. But then her lips were against his cheek and she murmured: “Yes.”

His Wraith. Inej. Her saints damn him. Every mask he’d created, every wall he’d built were completely shattered. They were vulnerable, they were strong and they were at each other’s mercy. Step by step, brick by brick, they would heal, they would conquer. They would take on the world.

But Kaz had no idea what he was doing, had no idea how to show her, how to tell her how much she meant, how much he wanted her. So he just repeated, his voice a breathless whisper, against her jaw: “I want you to stay. I want you.”

And those dark, wide eyes looked up at him and he thought worth it. It had all been worth it. If this roof came crumbling down he would not care, he would not flinch, he would not even begin to notice because she was here, she was here, she all he wanted, all he ever needed and nothing in the world would take her away from him now. Nothing would stop them both from claiming one another. And Inej squeezed his hand still on her cheek and said: “You want me.” A smile. A lick of her lips. “And how will you have me, Kaz?”

I will have you without armour, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all. 

There it was.

Give her a reason to stay.

Kaz Brekker, King of the Barrel, Dirtyhands, looked down at the Wraith. He breathed in, he counted heartbeats, counted seconds, counted moments. He did not turn away. He saw the horizon in her eyes and in it there was his future. The world was theirs. His hand was low on her back, the other was on her cheek, pulling her closer, and then his face was leaning down and Kaz touched his lips to hers.

The world as he knew it split into two. His mind went blank. There was nothing else besides the feel of her mouth against his and her hand holding on to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer and closer, until there wasn’t an inch of space left between them. He couldn’t remember who he was, what he had done, the circumstances which had led him here – and didn’t care.

He was free and wild and the world was his for the taking. Free, his mind sang. More more more, his body pleaded. But his hands barely moved, they just grasped her top harshly, reminding himself to keep his feet on land. Then Inej was on her tiptoes, her body weight leaning on him, comforting, and he thought there wasn’t anything, any other feeling in the world that could surpass this, there wasn’t any amount of money that could replace this.

Kaz wasn’t breathing. He pulled away slow, his lips tingling, his lungs hurting and he managed to whisper: “Without armour,” he said. He opened his eyes, trembling, looked at her. “I will have you without armour.”

Inej’s eyes were half closed, wondering around his face, his eyes, reminding him how alive, how very, very alive he was. He had to smile – there was no way to help it. His lips spread into a grin, and his cheeks were burning and he was burning all over and then Inej – Inej was smiling with him. Fools, he thought. They were such fools, grinning at each other as if they hadn’t known anything other than happiness. He was such a happy, damn fool. He wanted to remain that way forever.

“You see,” she said suddenly. “We will always find our way back to each other.”

Her touch was comforting. And he didn’t want to let go. He was both amazed and frightened at how much he did not want to pull away – how easy it now seemed, now that they had broken that one barrier, to have her in his arms.

“I love you.”

It had been no more than a whisper, barely audible, almost just a silent movement of his lips – but he couldn’t have contained it even if he had tried. She had to know. She had to understand. 

Inej pulled back a fraction of an inch, parted her lips, widened her eyes. “You love me.”

He swallowed. Said nothing.

She cocked her head to the side, raised her hand tentatively, traced his jaw with the tips of her fingers. His breath hitched, but his eyes were focused. He was not drowning. He was floating. “And,” she murmured, eyes drifting back and forth between his lips and his eyes, “will you love me without armour as well?”

“There’s no armour left now, Wraith. You’ve stripped me bare.”

She smiled. Pointed with her chin at her knifes – her protection. “So did you.”

He was a damn fool when it came to her. But it was hopeless – his heart was in her hands and it was up to her what she did with it.

Then Inej was leaning closer once more. Hearbeat. Alive. Alive.

She feels so small, so perfect, so good. 

“You told me I shouldn’t make friends with crows.” Her lips on his jaw. Her lips on his neck. Kaz’s knees were shaking, but his hand was trailing underneath her top. She smiled against his skin. “That’s too bad.”

“What?” Asked Kaz. His throat was dry. His mind was foggy. Tentatively, he reached up, and then his hand was touching the bare skin of her back. Her chest pressed against his. 

The world tipped backwards. But then her hands were on his cheeks and he was looking into her eyes and his thoughts dissolved. She was warm – alive alive alive. He imagined how it would feel having her body bare on his bed, her naked back facing him, her hair in tangles, a wild, dark crown, her smile inviting, delighted. His hands running up and down her skin, Inej closing her eyes, exhaling at the feel of his touch. His hands at her sides, gripping her waist, fingers pressing gently into her skin, her parted lips making the shape of his name. He imagined his mouth following the patterns his hands had previously left, his teeth nibbling at her shoulder, at her ear. Her body squirming away from him, her laugh pushing away any other sound the world might make. Her hands in his hair and her mouth on his, him feeling her smile through it all, feeling her joy entwining with his.

“That’s too bad,” she repeated. Inej pecked his lips once, twice. So gentle, so soft. His heart was breaking and being put back together at the same time. Then she smiled again, a smile he knew all to well, and she whispered: “Because I did more than befriend crows. I fell in love with one.”

Life is a funny thing. It can break you, ruin you, destroy you completely until you are stripped down to nothing, wearing nothing but your weary, tired bones. But then it can hold you like a mother’s embrace and it can whisper sweet, reassuring words into your ear, dress you in warm clothes and kiss your cheek. It can rebuild you, pick up your pieces and assure you that you can start anew. 

At that moment, Kaz felt like he was brand new.

At those words, he felt like he could finally start to hope.

They were King and Queen. And the world was theirs for the taking. And both of them would be there for each other when life punched them to the ground. They would win, and keep winning, knives drawn and pistols blazing, because they didn’t know anything else.

They would heal.

Slowly, Kaz wrapped his arms fully around her waist. His Wraith. His Queen. His Inej.

Slowly, Inej wrapped her arms fully around his neck. She breathed in, touched her forehead to his, made him meet her eyes, so he would never again get lost in the cold water. And she whispered three words onto his skin. And then he was able to close his eyes and see the sun, feel the warmth, the light against his skin. And she whispered them again, and again, and again.

In moments like that, Kaz was certain that Inej loved him - and that she would never let go.


End file.
